


Give Me Your Heart

by StarStuff42



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Carlos Santana, Dancing, Fluff, M/M, smooth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 04:07:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2136402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarStuff42/pseuds/StarStuff42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos and Cecil have their first fight, and Carlos comes up with an adorable plan to make it up to Cecil by channeling his inner Carlos Santana.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give Me Your Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Hola, before you read this fic, you should go listen to Smooth by Carlos Santana. Thank you for reading, Enjoy! 
> 
> Special thanks to by besties, AO3 users leonwingstein and hobbit-hedgehog for inspiring me and being the best ever. You should also go read their fanfiction :-)

 

Sparkling liquid bubbled inside of Erlenmeyer flasks upon hot plates, bioluminescent bacteria cultures glowed in their radiation chamber, and data matrices scrolled across the aging—and highly illegal—computer screen in front of Carlos the Scientist. Carlos, who would normally scrawl notes excitedly throughout his experiments, simply sighed put his head down on his desk. Joel Eisenburg—Night Vale's only flying dinosaur expert—strolled down the hall to see Carlos banging his head upon said desk.

“Um, hey Carlos” Joel muttered, sitting down next to Carlos. “I know I'm an expert in flying dinosaurs, not humans, but is everything okay?”

“Everything is _fine_ , Joel. I'm just a little tired is all” Carlos replied tersely.

“Again, I specialize in flying dinosaurs, but I've never observed humans to bang their heads violently upon their desks because of lack of sleep” Joel said.

“When one's lack of sleep is due to driving to one's own home and sleeping there, when one had planned to spend the evening at one's boyfriend's house, it can cause distressed head-banging as a side effect” snipped Carlos.

“Sooo, I'm sensing there's boyfriend trouble?” Joel asked.

“Brilliant deduction” said Carlos.

“Well, I'm certainly no relationship expert, as I am already an expert in flying dinosaurs, but if you would like to talk about it, I can try to help” Joel offered.

“I would just like to do my experiments in peace. I am a man of logic, and science, and my emotions should not get in the way. I just need to gather my mind back together. I'll be fine” Carlos said dismissively.

“Okay, well, take it easy Carlos.” Joel said as he stood to leave “See, if you channel your inner Titanosauria—”

“Get out, Joel” interrupted Carlos, before he could hear the rest of Joel's dinosaur wisdom.

 

Carlos, in fact, could not simply suppress his emotions like he had his entire life: a certain radio show host had dismantled the logical, emotionless scientist and made Carlos experience a range of emotions broader than the electromagnetic spectrum. Cecil's texts could send a swarm of butterflies through the scientist's stomach, the sound of his voice on the radio late at night could stir far more than butterflies, and Cecil's watering eyes, wide with hurt, apparently had the power to crumble and smash his insides. Cecil and Carlos, the perfectly imperfect couple, just had their first fight.

_God, I am so stupid_ Carlos muttered to himself as he painfully replayed the previous night's exchange. Cecil had invited him over for dinner, and was clearly bouncing off the walls with excitement and nerves all day, because he did not stop texting Carlos with little updates. “ _Hm, out of crimini mushrooms, so I guess I'll use portabella? :-)”_ read one text, followed by “ _Just picked out the wine specially with you in mind ;-)”_ , and they continued on and on. Carlos smiled at each and every one, despite them distracting him from his experiments.

Science, however, cannot simply be wrapped up at the end of the work day. Science does not follow a 9-5 schedule, and therefore, neither could Carlos the Scientist. His experiments took much longer than planned...and he didn't want to take the time to call Cecil because he thought he could wrap up quickly and get out of there. Suffice to say, when Carlos finally left, he was greeted by a positively livid Cecil. Angry Cecil is one thing, and as terrifying as he was, Carlos thought he could handle angry Cecil again. Carlos could _not_ handle hurt, sad Cecil. As Cecil's anger turned to hurt, Carlos stopped defending himself and switched to sweetly apologizing. Cecil, however, simply dismissed him with stabbing claims that “Carlos clearly didn't love him as much he loved Carlos,” that “he was not the center of Carlos's life,” and the one that cut the most, “How would science feel if she knew that Carlos was cheating on her with a radio host.” Ouch. And to top it off, Carlos couldn't even handle leaving with tact, opting instead to storm angrily out, undoubtedly muttering rude things under his breath.

 

After suffering through a full day's worth of apathetic research, Carlos sat in his car and turned on the radio. Cecil's voice floated silkily across the airwaves and washed over the scientist. Carlos listened halfheartedly, focusing more on the sound of Cecil's voice than the words he was saying. Carlos knew that he had screwed up very, very badly and didn't know how to make it right.

Carlos sat there, beating himself up again and again, wondering if he had completely blown his chance with Cecil, the person he startlingly realized meant more to him than anything else...maybe Cecil even meant more to him than science.

“ _I take you now, dear Listeners, despondent and lugubrious, to the weather”_ Cecil said with a sigh before his microphone was switched off as a lively latin beat took over. Carlos was startled out of his theatrical moping as he instantly recognized the song:

 

“ _Man, it's a hot one_

_Like seven inches from the midday sun_

_Well, I hear you whisper and the words melt everyone_

_But you stay so cool”_

 

“No” Carlos thought, “he can't be, he isn't!” Running his hands through his hair, Carlos the scientist had a mini panic-attack as he realized Cecil had chosen to play a Carlos Santana song. Cecil occasionally talked about his boyfriend on his program, but he had never chosen a weather song that had anything to do with him before. But here he was, listening to Cecil play Carlos's favorite song over the radio.

 

“ _My muñequita,_

_My Spanish Harlem Mona Lisa_

_You're my reason for reason_

_The step in my groove, yeah.”_

 

There was absolutely zero possibility that Cecil just happened to pick this song, and Carlos felt his heart breaking as he realized that Cecil was his reason for reason, the step in his scientific groove, if you will.

 

“ _I would give my world to lift you up_

_I could change my life to better suit your mood_

_Because you're so smooth”_

 

As the song approached the chorus, Carlos was struck by an idea: an enormously corny, cheesy, romantic kind of idea. Starting up his hybrid car, Carlos drove excessively fast as the song blared on. When he arrived at his destination, Carlos took out his phone and typed a quick text that read:

 

_“Cecil, after your show is done, would you please consider coming out to the Arby's parking lot? I understand if you don't but—I would like to show you something. If you came, it would be neat.”_

 

Carlos pressed send as his heart-rate accelerated to obnoxious levels. Carlos sat there impatiently as Cecil came back on and wrapped up a story about disappearing goats, which had been popping in and out of existence in the studio all day.

“ _Goodnight, Night Vale, Goodnight”_ ended the broadcast, as it always did, before static and the background hum of the universe took over the radio. Carlos watched vivid reds, pinks, and oranges swirl on the horizon as the sun finished setting, some bright stars and the moon already visible overhead. And he waited.

 

After what felt like an eternity, but in actuality was only around 10 minutes—talk about time being relative, right?--Carlos saw headlights approaching. Through the acrobatics that his stomach decided to partake in, Carlos managed to pop _Supernatural_ into the CD player in his car and skip to track number 5. Cecil parked a reasonable distance from Carlos, obviously hesitant, and got out slowly. Carlos got out of his car as well, pressing play and turning the volume up all the way.

“Carlos, what—” Cecil began to say but was cut off by Carlos pressing a finger to his lips. Carlos took Cecil's hands in his and led the now curious radio show host closer to his car. Carlos wrapped a hand around his boyfriend's waist and held the other loosely. Cecil instinctively draped his arm around Carlos's shoulder. Cecil's eyes widened as he realized what song was blaring from his boyfriend's radio.

 

“ _And it's just like the ocean under the moon_

_Well, that's the same as the emotion that I get from you_

_You got the kind of loving that can be so smooth, yeah.”_

 

Carlos lead Cecil in a clumsy, slow, salsa around the car. Carlos had learned to dance as a child in Costa Rica, but Cecil simply tried to follow where his boyfriend led. Even if Cecil had no idea what he was doing, he felt himself blush each time their legs or cheeks brushed together. Carlos's hand in his kept Cecil anchored through spins and dips.

 

_“Gimme your heart, make it real_

_Or else forget about it”_

 

Carlos looked Cecil directly in the eye as those lyrics played, and Cecil felt the bottom of his stomach fall away into oblivion. During the following guitar solo, Carlos managed to release Cecil's waist, take his other hand in his, and spin him so that both Carlos's arms encircled Cecil as he held him from behind. Cecil now had far more of his boyfriend's body pressing against him, and couldn't help but smile and blush.

 

_“Well, I'll tell you one thing_

_If you would leave it'd be a crying shame_

_In every breath and every word_

_I hear your name calling me out”_

 

Just as Cecil closed his eyes and began to adjust to dancing in that position, Carlos spun Cecil out of that position, away from him a bit, but then stepped forward and pulled Cecil to him, grasping his waist once again. Cecil would have found that profoundly hot if he did not immediately remind himself that he was supposed to hate Carlos right now.

 

“ _Gimme your heart, make it real_

_Or else forget about it_

_Let's don't forget about it”_

 

The last line repeated itself until the song slowly faded out. Carlos stared into Cecil's eyes as the song ended, but he quickly let go of Cecil's hand and waist as he uncomfortably looked at his feet, his confidence draining as one latin rhythm ended, and the next song began to blare loudly.

“Shit” Carlos muttered as he fumbled with the car door and clumsily turned the radio off, nearly tripping as he did so. Cecil couldn't help but giggle.

“So” said Carlos as he stood back up and faced Cecil, “last night I messed up. I really, really, screwed up. And I am not as eloquent with words as you are, so I spent all day thinking about what to say to you, coming up with nothing that matched what I'm feeling inside. That is until you played today's weather, so I thought I'd let the other Carlos do the talking.”

Cecil simply looked at him blankly.

“You listen to my show?” he asked softly.

“Well, yes, of course I listen to your show. Every time it's on” Carlos replied, slightly dumbfounded. “Anyway as I was saying—”

“I didn't know you were listening” Cecil said, a touch less softly than before, and a fierce blush turning his face the color of the now fading sky.

“Anyway, before I lose all ability to express what I can, I wanted to let you know, Cecil: that the emotions I get from you are akin to those conjured by picturing the ocean under the moon, and tha...”

Carlos was cut off by Cecil dramatically flinging himself at Carlos and kissing him fiercely on the lips. Carlos's eyes widened in shock, and he simply stood frozen on place. Cecil finally pulled away and grinned at him from ear to ear—though not literally ear to ear. That would be creepy.

“I'm going to finish my speech anyway, because Carlos Santana and I worked hard on this!” Carlos said indignantly. “Cecil Gershwin Palmer: I would like to give you my heart, make it real, and I would very much not like to forget about it, about us” Carlos finished and simply looked at his boyfriend for a response.

“You big dork” Cecil said with a giggle.

“Shut up” Carlos said.

“That was the mushiest, the shmaltzy-ist thing I've every heard” Cecil said, grinning brilliantly.

“Shut up I worked hard on that!” Carlos replied.

“I loved every minute of it” Cecil said, tone turning into honey.

“So, does this mean we're okay?” Carlos asked quietly.

“A-okay.” Cecil replied and walked over to Carlos's car, slid into the hood, and motioned for Carlos to do the same. Carlos settled in beside Cecil, hands entwining, and let out a sigh of relief. As they stared at the lights above the Arby's, understanding yet not understanding the mostly void, partially stars universe, Carlos said a silent _thank you_ to Carlos Santana. Carlos the Scientist may understand radioactivity, plate tectonics, trees, and the relativity of space and time, yet Carlos mentally added love—and love songs—to the vast list of things he doesn't yet understand. But for now, the crisis had been averted, and he could continue to study that which he does not yet understand with his beloved Cecil.

 

 

 


End file.
